Be Brave

I am so excited for “Brave” for so many reasons. 1) Pixar, I love Pixar. 2) Red-Hair, I love red-hair. 3) Scottish accents, I love Scottish accents. And 4) A Heroine, I love a good heroine, not to be mistaken with the sort you inject and listen to jazz with. Though it’s that last bit that’s the most important. In all of its acclaimed history, Pixar has never made a movie around a heroine. They’ve had female characters, clearly, but it’s been the Nemos and WALL-Es and Woodys who have saved the day. But with “Brave,” that’s all different. Brave is set in the Scottish Highlands and follows “tomboyish” Princess Merida (voiced by real Scottish lady and “Boardwalks Empire” actress Kelly Macdonald) who has a shock of fire-red hair and appears to be handy with a bow and arrow. The rest of the voice cast includes Emma Thompson, Billy Connolly, Craig Ferguson and Julie Walters. Pretty damn impressive, if you ask me.

Now, I know there has been some complicated behind-the-scenes backstory involving the film’s original female director being replaced. But to me, while problematic, it does not detract from the true import of the thing. And that is this: Girls deserve to be the heroes of their own stories. We aren’t just damsels in distress or funny sidekicks or beautiful girlfriends. Sure we can be those things, and we sometimes are. But if that’s all we are shown as, well, then that’s doing a disservice to everyone. Boys, girls, everyone. Because in the real world, women are the heroes of their own stories every single day. You don’t need a focus group or a test market to discover this. It just is. That it’s taken so long for Hollywood to realize it, well, that’s the real fairy tale.

Game changer

It has taken me a full day to process my feelings about “Game of Thrones.” I know we live in a knee-jerk, instacritic culture where 140-characters counts as thoughtful dialogue (and, believe me, no one loves those 140 characters more than this unapologetic Twitteraholic), but I needed more time to truly think about this series. I haven’t read the books, which puts me at a disadvantage. So right now all I have to go on is the pilot. And, right now, I’m just not sure.

Granted, the production is gorgeous. You can always see money on the screen, and this thing looks the exact opposite of cheap. The writing is tight, the acting is solid, the story is complex. It feels epic, it is epic. But, and I means this with all seriousness, what’s in it for the ladies?

I’ve read a lot this past week about the gender politics of this much-hyped show. It’s for boys. It’s pandering to girls. It’s feminist. It’s misogynistic. It’s oddly fixated on doggy-style sex. (That last one isn’t a question, just a fact.)

New York Times reviewer Ginia Bellafante called it “boy fiction patronizingly turned out to reach the population’s other half.” She also strongly implies that women don’t read fantasy fiction. So, let’s get this out of the way right away. That’s just some crazypants nonsense right there. One, of course women read fantasy novels and to suggest otherwise signifies a profound arrogance about an entire gender. And two, her argument that the sex is thrown into the story to appease women viewers makes me think she actually didn’t watch the premiere. Because the “sex” she spoke of was (SPOILER ALERT) incest, rape and paid servicing from prostitutes. You know, just like “Sex and the City.”

So, clearly the argument that “Game of Thrones” is fantasy therefore women won’t like it and therefore it’s pandering to women and therefore it’s bad is not the argument I’m making here.

But I was disturbed by what I saw happening with the women in the premiere. (MORE MAJOR SPOILERS) We see a wife to a powerful lord, who seems loyal but has little power. We see the queen to a king, who appears to be evil and power hungry and – oh yeah – is totally fucking her twin brother. We see two daughters of the lord, who are made to go to crocheting class while the boys learn archery – one is kind of boy crazy and one is a tomboy. And we see the sister to a power-hungry brother who sells her off to the head of a warrior tribe who then consummates their relationship against her will. Fun times for the lady folk, let me tell you.

Still just because these are dark times for women, does not mean better days aren’t ahead. What I understand from reading about this series is that us feminist fans will need to be patient. This is clearly not a woman’s world – right now they are largely just for pawns or playthings for men. But the question is will the series allow them to overcome their relegated positions in this society? Will we see independence, influence, intellect? I really hope so.

To me feminist stories do not require that all the women are portrayed in a positive light or necessarily even treated well. But it does require that female characters are allowed to be complex and layered and ultimately in control of their own destinies. Are women integral to the story outside of their relationships to men? Do they wield any power? Do they show strength and smarts and other abilities and not just sex appeal? Do they get to be human, just like the men? That is what makes a story feminist. That is what makes a story worth investing in for me.

If “Games of Thrones” starts to make its ladies more than just pieces in powerful men’s games, then I’m in. If it doesn’t, well, then game over.

EDIT: Just wanted to add that I thought it was very interesting and more than a little troubling that, as one of you commented, Dany gave her consent in the book, but not the show. That means the entire foundation of their future relationship in the series will be different from the original book. Like I said, troubling.

That's Ms. Bossypants to you

Happy Bossypants Day! Tina Fey’s book goes on sale today and if you aren’t currently jogging toward a bookstore as we speak I will consider it a personal affront to my Fake TV Wife and you will never be invited over for a fake dinner on a fake double date with your Fake TV Wife, Sara Ramirez. So there. But, seriously folks, I feel oddly proud about her book launch today. (Which, I am fully aware, is in no way my accomplishment. I’m delusional, but not that delusional.) Mostly I’m happy that in a world that so often questions, judges, challenges, restricts, belittles and ignores women that such a smart, capable, independent woman has been able to reach this level of success. It’s not that the world is lacking Tina Feys. There are smart, capable, independent women all over the place. It’s that our society stubbornly refuses to look at them through the lens of just their abilities. It’s always couched in gender. And, don’t get me wrong, I understand there are inherent differences between the genders. Hello, clearly. But when people chastise and even ridicule President Obama for relying on council from his female advisers on how to act in Libya, you know we our opinions aren’t being placed on anywhere near the same playing field as the menfolk. So, today, in honor of Tina’s book, let’s all allow our inner Bossypants to run free. Let’s be (or continue to be, as hopefully is the case) bossy and unapologetic and powerful. Let us never be afraid to be the smartest person in the room. In fact, let’s work hard to make sure everybody knows it.

And, on that note, please enjoy Tina Fey telling everyone how much better she is than Helen Mirren.

Putting the Awe into Some

They say Tuesday’s Child is full of grace. Well, grace is nice and all. But outside of ballerinas and Audrey Hepburn, I think being full of awesome is a mite more practical. I mean, who doesn’t want to be awesome? Awesome is awesome. OK, now I feel like I’m saying awesome so much that the word is starting to lose its meaning and just become a collection of sounds. Like whenever I say the word “obey,” I drag it out like how I heard this one Southern minister say it at this wedding where the bride and groom still kept the “obey” part of the vows because they mistakenly though this was 1954. Wow. I’ve gotten awesomely off track. I was saying something about being awesome. Oh, I remember. These videos are awesome.

Cyndi Lauper is awesome.

She lifts the mood of some stranded, cranky air travelers in Buenos Aires with the best girl power song ever.

Daniel Craig & Judi Dench are awesome.

Even 007 knows it’s hard out there for a dame. On this International Women’s Day, remember nothing is sexier than equality.

Thumbs-Up Kitty is Awesome.

Also, a little creepy. Like, now what’s to prevent them from taking over the world?

Brittana being on is awesome.

If tonight’s big Brittana moment is even half as awesome as this fanvid, we’re in for a whole lot of awesome tonight.

There, well I hope those helped make your Tuesday a little more awesome. If you’re still looking for grace, you’re on your own.

Case study

So Neko Case can’t get laid. OK, wait, let me rephrase that. I am sure Neko Case can and does get laid, but she’s not getting laid by groupies at the rate of her male singer counterparts. And, to extrapolate further, it seems no female musicians are getting laid at the rate, frequency and intensity of their male counterparts. There is, apparently, just no such thing as the male groupie. Salon did an interesting piece on Neko’s recent Twitter admission that “ladies in bands don’t get ANY action.” It’s interesting but also kind of a bummer because someone as talented and beautiful and smart and successful as Neko Case should be awash in whatever kind of sexual smorgasbord her heart desires. She is Neko goddamnfucking Case. Take her to bed immediately, men of this planet.

But it also illustrates a broader, equally bummer truth in our society. Most men simply find it easier to get action than most women. And this is especially true when it comes to smart, successful men and women. While men are awash in lady loving, their female counterparts find their options more limited. Why? Well, we could be here for weeks talking about sexual politics and societal patriarchy, power dynamics and gender norms. But let’s just mutually agree that this is a fact, like gravity and the impossibility of eating just one Pringle. Or, now that I think about it, Twizzler.

So here is the obvious follow-up question: Is this true to gay women? Does this mean we doubled down on the inability to get some? Or does this make it total cake? I can tell you from my own totally unscientific empirical observations, lesbians really suck at hitting on each other, even when none of the parties involved are famous. Obviously, someone needs to interview Tegan & Sara on this subject immediately. I have no idea whether lesbian artists have ardent and active fanbases willing to drop and fling their panties at them. I don’t know if they’ve got to hire double security to block the stage door or can saunter out into darkness unnoticed. I know I’ve seen many, many a lesbian performer on stage and have never waited outside of the tour bus to see if I could my own private encore. But then, I’m not really the groupie type. Though, as always, I would wait at the stage door to hell forever and always for just one shot at Tina Fey. (Had to put it out there one more time. You understand, universe.)

I guess, in a way, I’m a little glad that female musicians don’t partake in the bedroom buffet line that many of their male counterparts do, where they open the door and point. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with sex for sex’s sake between two consenting adults. Sex is natural, sex is fun. Sex is usually best when it’s one-on-one. But mostly this is just because any more than one other person and the experience becomes a complicated timing exercise of how much and how well one spends attending to each separate partner – or so I’ve, um, heard. Right, where was I? Ever the ERA backer, I think her refusal to board this particular sexual gravy train should be entirely the female artist’s choice. As Neko tweeted after her groupie lament: “I realize for myself, I didn’t want to be hit on BY lots of men so much as I wanted to be hit on AS MUCH as men. Competitive inferior complex.”

Neko, darling, if you’re interested in testing your theory with the other team, I am more than willing to help. Point me to your stage door. I’ll be happily waiting.

Really, men aren’t lining up for that? God, they can be such idiots.

Our stories, Ourselves

I try to write about women’s issues a lot on this blog – not just because I’m a woman, but because it matters how 51 percent of the population is treated in this world. I would hope that even if I wasn’t a woman I’d still care a lot about women’s issues. Women’s rights, women’s representation, women’s equality – they aren’t just about how women are treated, but what we value as a society. Even though this is mostly just a silly site that merrily muses about effervescent pop culture and pretty, pretty ladies, I try to do my small part to advocate for more, better and total inclusion of women in all forms of entertainment. This year I made an informal resolution to myself to stop watching TV shows that don’t pass the Bechdel Rule. So that killed “Hawaii Five-O” (Grace Park in a bikini is great, but it’d be even greater if she had another regular female castmate to talk with each week.) In TV – where we follow characters for years, not just 90 minutes – it’s even less excusable to not pass the simple test of having two female characters who talk to each other about something other than a man.

But what we see on screen is one thing, what happens behind the screen is another. The simple fact, the undeniable truth is that we women simply are not in command of our own stories. You see, who tells a story matters. Yet according to a new study by the Women’s Media Center, only 8 percent of all film writers are women. That means 92 percent are men, telling all of the stories we see on the screen. In 2009, women directed 7 percent of the top films that year. That’s the same percentage as in 1987, more than two decades ago. Last year, everyone crowed about the great stride for womankind with Kathryn Bigelow’s win as the first woman in 82 years to win an Academy Award for directing. She was only the fourth woman ever to receive the nomination. This year no women were nominated, despite two female-directed films landing best pictures nods. One step forward, yet we’re still looking up from the bottom rung.

These kinds of stark imbalances are sadly not sequestered to the world of entertainment. Women represent less than 25 percent of all op-ed pieces written, 13 percent of Sunday morning news show guests and 3 percent of the decision makers in the media. And we haven’t even reached the halls of real power. Out of 435 members of the House of Representatives, only 79 are women. Out of 100 senators, only 17 are women. We’ve only ever had one female Speaker of the House, who has now been relegated to minority leader. We are still waiting for our first-ever female vice president or president. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Just yesterday it was revealed in The New York Times that just 13 percent of Wikipedia contributors are women. And Wikipedia is a self-selecting group that can create, edit, contribute at will. So we’re self-selecting ourselves out of 87 percent of the information shared on one of the world’s largest information databases. Fantastic.

These numbers should make us furious. We should be livid. We should demand and accept nothing less than an equal place at the tables of power. Yet, here we are, chugging along. We coexist calmly in the face of inherent inequality. And, sure we frequently bemoan our fate and raise a righteous fuss, but otherwise we kind of just accept it. Maybe it’s that we've been conditioned to pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. So we’ve been fooled into not caring. But it matters who tells our stories, who makes our news, who controls our power.

I guess this is my long and rambling way of saying, I’m mad. I think we all should be mad. That informal Bechdel resolution is now a permanent one. Same goes for movies. Same goes for whatever I put out there every day in my small of slices of that media pie. I’m going to try harder, be madder, get louder. Our stories deserve to be told, and we deserve to tell them.

The cruelest cut

I talk about my love for Tina Fey endlessly a lot here. I make no apologies for my unabashed Feyminism. But every now and then, it doesn’t hurt to have a reminder of exactly, precisely, without-a-doubt why I love her. And today that reminder is in the segment PBS cut from her Mark Twain Prize acceptance speech.

“And, you know, politics aside, the success of Sarah Palin and women like her is good for all women — except, of course, those who will end up, you know, like, paying for their own rape kit ‘n’ stuff. But for everybody else, it’s a win-win. Unless you’re a gay woman who wants to marry your partner of 20 years. Whatever. But for most women, the success of conservative women is good for all of us. Unless you believe in evolution. You know, actually, I take it back. The whole thing’s a disaster.”

See it for yourself here:

[Sorry the right side is cut off, stupid parameters.
Tina nails it at 12 minutes and 30 seconds mark.]

Boom. I love the smell of roasted Mama Grizzlies in the morning, it smells like victory over hypocrisy. Also, s’mores. Well, it would have if PBS had actually aired the bit in question. According to The Washington Post, PBS executives say the quote was trimmed for length. The show ran 19 minutes over and every presenter apparently had his/her segment snipped.

PBS also trimmed Tina’s individual shout-outs and thanks to presenters and friends, which she herself acknowledged “we’re probably going to cut this part for the broadcast.” But to then snip such an obviously political and pointed part of her speech seems, well, off. I mean, about 20 minutes of the 90-minute show were clips from her past work anyway. You can’t cut clips?

What the hell, PBS? You are PBS. Everyone knows you are liberal elite lunatics already. Go with it. You’re not fooling anyone. And, speaking of not fooling anyone, give it up with the Bert and Ernie are “just roommates” stuff. Yeah, for 40 years.

The best humor cuts through the clutter and lays bare simple truths. It doesn’t have to be political, often it’s about the mundane. But we relate, if sometimes through nervous laughter, because of its core truth. And whether PBS cut the Sarah Palin slam out of misplaced anxiety or overactive politeness or wussy fear of the new Republican Congress cutting its funding, it was the wrong call. Boo, PBS, no reusable canvas tote bag for you.

To extrapolate wildly from this one incident and make broad generalizations (What? It’s my blog and I can extrapolate wildly if I want to.), this timidity is sadly endemic in our media – political or otherwise – these days. We like to push this canard that there are two equal sides to every story. Sometimes, believe me, there just aren’t. Not all opinions are created equal. Some are based on fear and ignorance and flat-out lies. That doesn’t mean you don’’ have the right to that opinion – you absolutely do. Believe, think, say whatever you want. But I don’t have to give it as much weight as an opinion based in fact.

Fact are not political, or at least they shouldn’t be. So when someone like Christine O’Donnell, who doesn’t even know that the separation between church and state is built into the First Amendment, gets thisclose to going to Congress, we’ve failed as a media on a very basic level. When Sen. John McCain’s constant flip-flopping on his reasons for opposing the DADT repeal isn’t called out when he moves the goalpost yet again, we’ve failed as a media on a very basic level. (And don’t get me started on Cindy McCain’s about-face (more like two-face)on DADT. Did old man yell at more than lawn to make you go from bold equality backer to cowardly intolerance back tracker in 2.5 days?). When the daughter of the almost vice president of the United States of America uses gay slurs on Facebook and we don’t question the mentality that allows that, we’ve failed on a very basic level.

Let’s be honest here. The Mama Grizzlies aren’t feminists. They aren’t good for all women. They’re good for people who believe a very specific, very conservative ideology. Which, if you believe those things, good for you. But let’s not buy into the lie that their victories are ours. They are not. For many of us, they’re just a disaster. Preach it Tina, preach.

One size fits none

Last week, as I wrote my response to the Marie Claire controversy, I knew someone would mention all the pictures of slim women on my site. I knew this because I’ve been doing this a long time and have developed a sixth sense about what kind of comments I am likely to receive. I had considered addressing it in the post, but ultimately thought that would take away from my main message which was that people deserve to be happy and respected, no matter their perceived differences. Heavy, thin, gay, straight – we’re all human and shouldn’t be shamed for the simple act of existing.

Now, it’s also true, I do post pictures of mostly slim women. Part of this is symptomatic of my chosen topic: the entertainment industry. There just aren’t that many women in Hollywood who are larger than a Size 0. The vast majority of famous women in Hollywood are conventionally thin. And unless I want to write about Queen Latifah, Nikki Blonsky, Gabourey Sidibe and Camryn Manheim every day, my options are limited. Even the women who sometimes get lumped in with the “plus-size” category aren’t really all that plus, like Sara Ramirez, America Ferrera and Christina Hendricks.

But this isn’t to say I shouldn’t do better. I should. I try not to glorify or perpetuate the unhealthy – in either direction. I don’t regularly post photos of models, because I think most are beyond unrealistic looking. (But not all, and those I celebrate to the fullest.) I don’t regularly post overly Photoshopped pictures, because there’s nothing realistic at all about the overuse of the liquefy tool. (I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really hate over Photoshopping. For real.)

Which brings us back to the topic of size and what I post on my site. I actually do think about inclusiveness, be it size or race or left handedness, a lot. A lot, a lot. But it’s not always that easy. I post about what I watch and enjoy because, well, it’s my site. But not all the TV/movies/music I watch and enjoy includes women of varying sizes. “30 Rock” – maybe Sherri Shepherd, but she’s on maybe twice a year. “Glee” – Amber Riley who is perpetually second fiddle of Lea Michele. “Rizzoli & Isles” – those two could fit on a twin-size bed with room to spare, trust me, I’ve imagined it. “Buffy” – Xander got a little chunky in the later seasons. “The Vampire Diaries” – nada, blood must be slimming.

I used to write about America Ferrera more often, but then “Ugly Betty” got bad and now it’s off the air. I write about Queen Latifah sometimes but closet organizing gets old after a while. And then, it can start to feel like tokenism. I’ve got to throw the Queen into this post, I’ve got to add Gabby to that post. Like I said, it isn’t always easy.

Also, do you know how hard it is to find pictures of some of these ladies in tank tops? The one, one, I’ve ever been able to find of Sara Ramirez I posted.

I guess this is all just a long, rambly way of saying – I do care and I do try. I want to be representative and I want to be inclusive. But I also write about a sliver of our popular culture that tends to be show women who look like a sliver. So trust me when I tell you, my love for women is not one size fits all.

p.s. Apologies to those expecting a post on the midterm elections today. I just couldn’t, it is too – well – ugh.

Fat and Happy

Opinions are like assholes, or so the saying goes. So it only follows that many assholes have opinions. But you are still taken aback, way aback, when an asshole is such an asshole about her opinions. Like, for instance, the Marie Claire blogger who posted her thoughts on the new CBS sitcom “Mike & Molly.”

Let me break down the essence of her post for you:

HEY FATTIES, EAT SOME UNPROCESSED FOOD AND GET OFF YOUR BIG ASSES. ALSO, STOP KISSING. GROSS.

And I’m not even really paraphrasing there. This is what was actually written.

My initial response was: Hmm, being overweight is one thing — those people are downright obese! And while I think our country’s obsession with physical perfection is unhealthy, I also think it’s at least equally crazy, albeit in the other direction, to be implicitly promoting obesity! ….

So anyway, yes, I think I’d be grossed out if I had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other ... because I’d be grossed out if I had to watch them doing anything. To be brutally honest, even in real life, I find it aesthetically displeasing to watch a very, very fat person simply walk across a room. ….

I’m happy to give you some nutrition and fitness suggestions if you need them — but long story short, eat more fresh and unprocessed foods, read labels and avoid foods with any kind of processed sweetener in them whether it’s cane sugar or high fructose corn syrup, increase the amount of fiber you’re getting, get some kind of exercise for 30 minutes at least five times a week, and do everything you can to stand up more — even while using your computer — and walk more.

(p.s. That last sentence is 84 – EIGHTY FOUR – words long. How about learning how to slim down your writing instead, lady?)

WHAT THE FUCKITY FUCK WAS THAT FUCKING SHIT?

The post has made the rounds, been roundly criticized and, by my rough estimate, garnered some 6 gazillion very unhappy replies in the comments section. The writer has apologized, said the post was an insensitive, thoughtless reaction to her own struggles with anorexia. Blah blah blah. That may well be true. While we should be rightfully furious with its writer (a Maura Kelly – who has been published in The New York Times, The Washington Post and Glamour, among others. Also, she loves peanut butter!), we should also see this as a symptom of a larger, more insidious disease we have as a society. This Maura person articulated it almost perfectly.

In our society, we think to be loved you have to look a certain way. If you don’t look that certain way you are unworthy, unhealthy, unhappy, undeserving. If you don’t look a certain way you shouldn’t kiss, find love, walk across a room. If you don’t look a certain way you should be ashamed, disgusted and hate ever fiber of your big, ugly, repulsive body.

What a colossal load of unrelenting horse shit.

Without getting into the flat-out fallacies of Maura Kelly’s argument (all weight can be managed through diet and exercise, etc.), let’s talk about her piece’s casual yet calculated cruelty. It’s a cruelty that permeates our society. It’s fed by the fashion and beauty industries. It’s fed by Photoshopping the already beautiful into impossible beauty. It’s fed by almost every image we see projected and plastered everywhere. This is how you should look, if you don’t look like this how could you possibly be happy? An entire body-shaming industrial complex profits from our continued misery.

It shouldn’t be a radical statement to say that we are all humans and that we all deserve happiness no matter our size, race, sexual orientation, disabilities, whathaveyou. Yet here we are, in the year 2010, and some people are still saying how gross it is that two fatties have the audacity to actually kiss. How dare they be happy, don’t they know?

Treating all people with basic human decency and respect, now that’s fucking beautiful.

My Weekend Crush

I’m not sure even if it is possible to be in love with a multimedia project, but I am. The New York Times, the staid national paper of record, ran an exhaustive special package on the women of professional tennis this week. It came with a fairly standard feature story talking about the state of the women’s game. But oh, kittens – the extras. Everything is in the extras. The project included an online photo essay and video gallery. That doesn’t sound like much until I tell you it’s a slo-mo video gallery of the incredibly fit, incredibly toned, incredibly strong women of tennis hitting balls really, really hard. I mentioned it was slo-motion, right? I am not even going to try to count the number of times I watched these videos back-to-back, on a loop, with the lights dimmed. This is porn, porn for muscles.

[See them all at the source.]

Now, I could get into a long-winded discussion about whether an article about the present state of women’s tennis really needs a blow-out multi-media package featuring some of the game’s biggest and most comely stars in flowing, spangly outfits and immaculate, full makeup hitting tennis balls. Objectification, glamorization, etc. etc., blah blah. But this is not the time or place for that. Instead I want to admire, with every fiber in my body, the dedication and drive, strength and sweat it takes to become a professional athlete. I want to appreciate how hard these women worked to be able to hit that hard. I want to leave small sacrificial offerings at the temples that they’ve transformed their bodies into. I want to marvel at the beauty that comes with strength. In short, I want to watch them play. Happy weekend, all.

Free as a bird now

And now, for some real outrage. The Swiss government has decided to not extradite Roman Polanski so he can finally face justice for his rape of a 13-year-old girl in 1977. He is now a free man. Though “free” is kind of relative considering the majority of his “imprisonment” was being confined to his luxury Swiss ski chalet and grounds. We should all be so lucky.

This puts a sad, sickening end to the spectacle that has been the Free Polanski movement. His supporters are no doubt thrilled, but what are they really thrilled about? That a very rich, very successful, very acclaimed, very entitled man was able to – again – evade justice that is long overdue? This is something to cheer about?

That Roman Polanski is talented has never been the issue. He is talented. “Rosemary’s Baby,” “Chinatown,” “The Pianist” – great films. But talent is not a get out of jail free card. Much discussion has been made around this case (and others) about what responsibility an artist has. As an artist, your greatest responsibility is to make great art. But as a human being, your responsibility is to be good to other human beings. Not all great artists are great human beings, obviously.

Professionally, brilliant. Personally, abhorrent.

While we may quibble some on what being a good human being means, I think we can all safely agree that raping a 13-year-old girl – no matter if it was in the 70s and everyone was doing it, no matter if she had had sex before, no matter if you directed “Chinatown,” no matter if you had a tragic personal life – is not being good to other human beings.

So what, then, is the great injustice of finally facing justice? That he doesn’t want to? That he is too talented to? That he has earned the right not to? Fail, fail, faility fail.

The Internet is often a place it fueled by outrage (that and terrible, terrible spelling). With the click of a button we can register our unwavering anger about anything: two wars, an ongoing oil spill, whether “The Daily Show” is sexist, LeBron James, the iPhone 4 reception problems, how an octopus could be better at predicting the World Cup than every veteran sports analysts, whether a movie where a lesbian sleeps with a man can be good. So much so that we can fall into outrage fatigue. What are we protesting? How many petitions do I have to sign? Will I really need to learn a new chant?

But I hope, most sincerely, that in our exhaustion at everything that is wrong with the world, we can still muster enough righteous indignation to realize that never letting justice be served in a case where a man admitted to drugging and raping a child is wrong. Because that, that is an outrage.

Hello, Modern Lady

Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of American…ladies. My Fake Internet Girlfriend Sarah Haskins has passed her mantel as Funny Lady Business Commenter in Chief to new CurrentTV contributor Erin Gibson. The former “Target Women” host dropped by to give her blessings in the form of the Golden Tampon.

That must be that new model Tampax is testing: “The Niagra,” for those extra, extra, extra heavy flow days.

Erin’s new InfoMania segment is called “Modern Lady.” Her first women target, if you will (yes, I miss Sarah. So. Much.), is reality TV moms who want to pose for Playboy.

Granted, this is no “the funnest yogurt ever,” but it’s a start. I am a little concerned that Erin seems to be targeting the actual women themselves, as opposed to how Sarah targeted the products and media aimed at women. But it’s her first time so we will chalk it up to growing pains.

Erin posted a short video, to let viewers know what she’s all about.

Well, at least we have one thing in common: Neither of us believe in the sun. So, what do you think? A worthy successor to President Haskins? I can’t say she has my vote just yet, but I am willing to listen to her platform.

World according to Emma

Every day could use a little more Emma Thompson, don’t you think? She has always been a favorite, what with her insistence on not futzing with her face and always eating desserts. And every since she make the deliberate decision to take her name off that awful petition, we are free to love her unabashedly again (not that the love ever went anywhere, it was just muted with deep disappointment). Still for whatever reason it’s easy to forget her continued brilliance and constant lovability – I blame her living all the way across the pond. But then she says something so brilliant and so lovable you just want to fly across the Atlantic to knock on her door and give her a big old hug. Well, you would if that damn unpronounceable volcano wasn’t still mucking up the works.

I mean, how else am I supposed to feel when she tells the Daily Mail that she is “a bit of a fundamentalist about all that size zero stuff” and that the only way to combat the ultra-thin mindset is to:

“Put on weight and say F*** off. Demand bigger sizes. Go into places where you can’t get a 38D bra and say, ‘I want a 38D bra and give me one. If you can’t, I am never coming here again.”

See, don’t you just want to hug her for like five solid minutes? Also, who else could look this radiant while walking a pig?

Well, consider this a virtual, cross-Atlantic hug. A few of my favorite moments on the incomparable Ms. Thompson.

Channeling Jane Austen at the Golden Globes in 1995


Channeling her inner Daytonian for Ellen in 1998


Channeling her inner exotic dancer on Ellen in 2006

Told you every day could use a little more Emma.

In defense of Fey-minism

So now, all of a sudden, feminists are mad at Tina Fey. Not all feminists, mind you. I am not so presumptuous to think of feminism as one homogeneous thought block. I consider myself a feminist (with the women’s studies minor to prove it) and, clearly, I am not mad at my Fake TV Wife. Sure we have small disagreements like any imaginary couple, but my love for her as a whole far exceeds any temporary discontent that may arise. That’s how relationships work, you cut people some slack.

Of course, that’s not how idolizations work. In an idolization you put someone on a pedestal, worship them with holy chants and sacrificial offerings and then – as Newton and his apple demand – send them crashing back to earth for the crime, real or imaginary, of displeasing the gods. Tina has been on that pedestal for quite a while, so the backlash was inevitable.

But some are surprised by the source – namely, young feminists.

I, for one, am not all that surprised. To be honest, I thought it would have started ages ago. But ever since Tina’s “Saturday Night Live” hosting gig last weekend the vitriol has risen sharply among some of her most vocal feminist detractors.

The issue, it seems, is her frequent mocking of single women (i.e. the Liz Lemons of the world). And, to be more specific, the number of her SNL sketches that were about sad, pathetic and/or evil single ladies. Witness: the Brownie Husband lady, the slutty golf commentator lady, the creepy crushing on Justin Bieber teacher lady, the 9-inch hooker with a heart of gold lady and the Bombshell McGee (I really can’t bring myself to say “lady” after her name, sorry).

The criticism has been swift and unforgiving:

Sady Doyle at Feministe:

“It seems kind of weird, actually, that someone with so many thoughts on All the Single Ladies (“If you were likable, he would have put a ring on it” — Tina Fey’s Feminism) hasn’t apparently been single since the Clinton administration. But, then again, it’s really not. The women Tina Fey defends tend to have something in common with her. The women she makes fun of tend to have obvious differences. Which is the whole point: Feminism is for women, but Tina Fey’s Feminism seems like it’s for… Tina Fey.”

Jessica Grose at DoubleX:

“…(I)t has come to the point where the pathetic single woman trope is such a constant refrain in Tina Fey's work that one has to wonder what she’s really trying to say.”

Amanda Marcotte of Pandagon:

“When I hear a married woman rant about the evils of sluts out there, I tend to wonder who her husband’s been dicking.”

So much for the solidarity of sisterhood. Isn’t that exactly the kind of behavior we abhor in our own critics? Knee-jerk name calling. We get nowhere when the response to someone calling us bitter single bitches is for us to yell back that they’re smug married cheaters.

Now, I will whole-heartedly agree that Tina’s SNL episode was spotty. It’s always spotty these days. But it had three genuinely funny bits: the opening monologue, Brownie Husband and Sarah Palin Network. That’s more than most Saturdays. Granted, the 9-inch-hooker skit was patently unfunny. It was puzzling and ridiculous. And the show obviously had no faith in it either because it was the last sketch before the goodbye wave, typically the place where funny has already gone to die and is now starting to smell.

And I’ve already detailed my disappointment in her Bombshell bashing without equal time going after the other party involved – namely the philandering husband. Why bag on someone who “looks like a dirtbag’s notebook” and not the dirtbag, too?

But to say that Tina Fey has a problem with single women after those sketches is pretty preposterous. Lest we forget, Sarah Palin is super-duper married and that was the best and meanest skit.

The real criticism that should be leveled at Tina’s SNL stint is that only one sketch paired her with another female cast member. And that sketch, where she played a mom with an unusually clingy daughter, was primarily about the daughter. The writers, it seems, didn’t think two women could be funny at the same time.

The serpent eating its own tail argument that inevitably arises in these kinds of criticisms is that women shouldn’t bash other women. But to say as a monolithic group that females can’t criticize other females is as silly as expecting an entertainer to be a feminist savior. Instead of handing out bad feminist cards, how about we focus on the people who don’t believe in feminism at all.

Let’s be perfectly honest, women who flock to married sports stars and married celebrity husbands are fair game in the mocking department. These are both very bad life choices. Are there a myriad of external societal and economic forces feeding into a woman’s decision to go that route? Sure. But surely we can also call a spade a spade without it being a larger commentary on womankind. Some women do dumb, terrible things. We can make fun of them for it; it’s OK.

Part of this is just the nature of the Internet. Something makes you mad. You type furiously. You hit send. Other people read it, they get mad, they type furiously, they hit send. Deeper reflection and time to cool off is in no way correlated to the ability to press the submit button. Sometimes anger becomes a meme.

The bigger problem, I fear, is with expectation. We demand perfection from our idols and when they fail to meet our impossible standards, we toss them aside. Much the same thing is happening with President Obama among progressives. We are disappointed in some of his decisions and disillusioned by some of his actions. But baby and the bathwater, people. If we keep building people up only to tear them down when our every expectation is not met, what will we have left? Tina Fey has never claimed to be a feminist icon. She is a funny lady who considers herself a feminist. But her real job is to make us laugh.

Rebecca Traister at Salon.com’s Broadsheet blog has a particularly thoughtful take on the Fey-minism fallout. She concludes her post (though really, read the whole thing) saying:

“Feminist comedy cannot always take as its targets the Jesse Jameses and the Richard Nixons of the world. Women also have to be able to mock -- sometimes harshly, sometimes sexually, sometimes intellectually -- the Sarah Palins and the Bombshell McGees, to laugh at our single selves, at our high-achieving selves, at our professional selves and our maternal and sexual and idealistic selves, or we will quickly re-earn a reputation for humorlessness. We can't expect to escape all the mean jokes, or the mean girls. And we can't lay the blame for the often ruthless nature of equal-opportunity mockery at the feet of a woman who never promised to do anything but entertain us.”

As an unmarried, college-educated, food-obsessed, self-deprecating, klutzy nerd I find her tweaking of unmarried, college-educated, food-obsessed, self-deprecating, klutzy nerds hilarious.

My criteria for her work is therefore quite simple: Was it funny? Was it smart?

A hero doesn’t have to be perfect. Most of them aren’t. Thomas Jefferson slept with his slaves. FDR had multiple mistresses. Einstein was awful to his wife. Dr. Martin Luther King plagiarized parts of his doctoral dissertation. These facts do not diminish their accomplishments. They are just part of what it means to be human – we kind of suck sometimes.

The older I get, the more I understand that life is filled with gray area and endless compromise. Youth is the domain of black and white. I can see the other side, if still vehemently disagree, of almost any argument. Well, except for Glenn Beck. There is no reason for Glenn Beck.

The continual critique of feminism and feminists (and let’s go ahead and roll lesbians into that group, too) is that they lack a sense of humor. Our PC culture – which I completely understand and for the most part try to adhere to – demands that we create a buffer zone to protect feeling, egos, psyches and toes. But that’s not how comedy works. Perfect people are not funny. Flaws are funny. Foibles are funny. Fucking idiots are funny.

Certainly, I’m not suggesting that all the women who are criticizing Tina just “lighten up.” That’s the infuriating retort always thrown at women when we fail to laugh at society’s latest date rape joke or dumb slut joke or fat bitch joke. What we need to do is set realistic expectations. I expect a lot from President Obama, because he is the President of the United States . Have I given up on him? No. Do I want him to so better? Yes.

I expect Tina Fey to be funny and smart. Are all her jokes funny and smart? No. Do I still think she is funnier and smarter than almost every other female entertainer working today? Hell yes.

Of course, all this should have been prefaced by the fact that I am deeply, deeply biased. No one talks shit about my Tina. I am Liz Lemon, hear me roar.

Snips and snails and puppy dogs tails

Well, you knew that was coming. You can’t give a little girl a “boy’s” haircut, let her wear pants and play with swords without the world exploding, possibly ending and definitely having a shit fit. Now, I’ve taken note of little Shiloh Jolie-Pitt’s endearing tomboy tendencies for a while now. I think they’re wonderful. Which, of course, means there is something pathologically wrong with her upbringing, possibly evil and definitely worth consulting a panel of stylists over.

Now I’d be angry (and, truth be told, I am angry), if this all didn’t feel a bit calculated. I mean, I don’t honestly think the editors of “Life & Style” think Brad and Angelina are turning Shiloh into a boy. But it sure does make a good headline. And it sure stirs up controversy. And it sure adds to the bottom line. Well fuck that noise. I am not linking the “article,” if you can call it that. But if you must know it calls her haircut “shockingly short” and that it pushes the boundaries into “cross-dresser territory” and even quotes an “expert,” again if can call him that, from Focus on the Family.

Whatever. People who really do feel this way make me mad, obviously, but sad for them as well. Their lives are so limited, their definitions so rigid. Life is wonderful because of its variation and possibilities and freedom. If a little girl wants to cut her hair short, run around in cargo pants and avoid ruffles like the plague, what is it to you? What is so threatening or scary or wrong with letting children just be themselves? Big sister Zahara wears plenty of dresses and frills and traditionally “girlie” clothes. So, clearly, it’s not some sinister plot to reassign the gender of all the Jolie-Pitt clan (though, truth be told, Brad in a dress has its virtues). If more people let their children express themselves freely – wear what they wanted, pursue what they wanted, be who they wanted, love who they wanted – this crazy world of ours would be a much happier, healthier place.

Again, I say, whatever. And get a life, people. Because life really is way too short to sweat the small stuff. And a haircut, that’s not even small – that’s minuscule. Plus, Shiloh’s is adorable. So suck it, “Life & Style.” Hard.

A league of our own

So, my question is this:

How…

many…

of…

these…

movies…

must…

we…

see?

I know the dorky guy/hot girl genre has been all the cinematic rage for a while now. Look how revolutionary, men don’t have to be hunks anymore to land impossibly beautiful women. Isn’t that great? Whooo dorks! Well, it would be if we saw a similar number of dorky girls/hot guys movies in return. But until the day you show me a girl who looks like Seth Rogen paired with a guy as hot as Katherine Heigl (or a girl as hot as Katherine Heigl, or just Katherine Heigl), I’ll keep my whooo to myself, thank you very much.

p.s. Yes, youngsters, there was a time when Patrick Dempsey was a dork. It was called the 80s.

Out of the Wilde

This is going to sound crazy. This might just be crazy. In fact, this is flat-out crazy. But I really wish Olivia Wilde would stop posing like this. OK, OK, you probably want to throw something at me right about now. Go ahead, I deserve it. (Dodges a toaster oven.) Hey, nothing that could hurt me!

Here is the thing, whenever you discuss beautiful women there is always a fine line between appreciation and objectification. I try, though probably not always successfully, to stay respectfully on the side of appreciation. But make no mistake, there is a real and unmistakable distinction. One can appreciate a beautiful woman as a whole without objectifying her for a single salacious purpose (that’d be s-e-x, in case any of you haven’t had your morning coffee yet).

I’ve been a fan of Olivia’s for a while now. She first caught my (not to mention Mischa Barton’s) eye as bisexual cutie Alex on “The O.C.” But then she went brunette (nothing against blondes, blondes – I just think darker tones work better on her) and I really, really started to notice. Now, I’ve had my problems with Thirteen’s storyline on “House.” Snoreteen hasn’t helped. But Olivia has always been spectacular to watch.

From reading her interviews and following her tweets, I believe her to be a smart, funny and deeply compassionate person who just happens to be strangle-a-mountain-ox hot. (I mean it, she is really, really, really funny.) But poses like this, well, they undermine all that other stuff a bit and just scream SEX BOMB. Not that women can’t be intelligent and hilarious and sexy, all at once. Of course they can, and deliciously so. It’s just a matter of frequency. Here are Olivia’s last five major magazine spreads.

[Click any to enlarge for research, yes, research.]

Elle, March 2010
GQ Italia, January 2010
GQ, October 2009
Maxim, July 2009
GQ, June 2009

OK, so that’s a lot of skin and a lot of sexy. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Nothing at all. Heck, I’ve posted many of these at some point. It’s just that’s all we get to see of Olivia in the mainstream media. Now, it’s not really her fault. The magazines and photographers set up the shoots and pose her as they like. But wouldn’t it be nice if she was in, say, a gorgeous gown. Or a sophisticated suit. Or, better yet, celebrated for her philanthropic work. Or, best yet, her brain. Did you see her on Bill Maher? Girl’s smart. (Check out that last video, particularly.) Basically, anything that wouldn’t give people the opportunity to write the headline: “Olivia Wilde Gets Down on All Fours for Elle.”

Appreciation/objectification – there’s a fine line. And that’s pretty much it, right there.

Last Target

I think my Fake Internet Girlfriend just broke up with me. Or, more accurately, she broke up with The Interwebs. Though, it’s possible we’re just on a break. Sarah Haskins has ended her very funny, very smart, very funny (no really, it bears repeating) series “Target Women” for Current. Yes, yes – tears, hair-pulling, possibly a little wailing. I am trying to be brave. But all is not lost, this will definitely not be the last we see of Sarah.

In an interview with Jezebel yesterday, Sarah talked about her pride in Target Women and her plans for the future. My Our gal has not one but two screenplays in the works: “Book Smarts” and “Lunch Lady” (the latter with Amy freaking Poehler attached). And she also has a webshort called “DILF” coming out soon. Now while I’m sure it’ll be hilarious, I’m less into hot dads and more into Sarah’s advice for picking up hot chicks. What? Who said these segments can’t be educational?

Alas, these are the last of Sarah’s little feminist funnies we’ll be seeing. I am happy to report that I’ve featured three of her four favorite episodes already: Cleaning, “Number Two” and Ann Curry. Ladyfriends is the only one I missed. But not anymore!

But before we let Sarah go to that better place (that being the land of successful Hollywood scriptwriters, not that “farm” your parents took Rover to when you were 8), let’s enjoy a little more of her excellent marksmanship.

Ready!


Aim!


Fire!

Oh, Sarah. Parting is such sweet sorrow. Thank God for yogurt.

p.s. And she even slipped a tank top in for Tuesday. My Fake Internet Ex-Girlfriend really is the best, isn’t she?

Unbreak my heart

File this under: Oh, thank God. Emma Thompson might just unbreak my heart. Of all the names on the Free Polanski petition, her signature hurt the most. There are others who disappointed, of course, by signing onto the celebrity rape apologist parade: Tilda Swinton, Natalie Portman, Penelope Cruz and Kristin Scott Thomas, among them. But Emma, well, her late addition to the ranks was a shock to the system. No, not our Emma.

Our Emma, the fierce fighter of sex trafficking, the advocate against fiddling with your face, the unapologetic smartie, the bawdy wit and the champion of always eating dessert. No, not our Emma.

And now, it seems it really will be no, not our Emma after all. The prodigiously talented Oscar winner has said she will remove her name from the petition. And we have the courageous work of Shakesville reader Caitlin to thank for her change of heart. You see, Caitlin, a student at Exeter University, knew she was going to have the opportunity to meet Emma at a campus event. So she set up a petition online, gathered 400-plus signatures of her own, and then took them to Emma to ask her to reconsider her signature on Roman Polanski petition.

And wouldn’t you know it, but Emma listened. As Caitlin wrote to Shakesville:

Emma did not have much time between meetings, but she gave me all of the time that she had. I asked her why she had signed the petition, and she explained about how well she knows Polanski, how terrible his life has been, and how forgiving the survivor of the rape all those years ago now is. She said she thought the intentions of the judge were unclear, as were the intentions of those who arrested him recently. She told me that a lot of her friends had rung her up asking her to sign the petition, so there had been a certain amount of pressure. She said that she had already been thinking a lot about the petition, as others had expressed their dismay at her signing it.

I handed her our petition and the comments. She read them both through thoroughly, and came back to me. She said, while she supported Polanski as a friend, a crime is a crime. I don't know whether she had realised the extent of Polanski's crime, but she is now fully aware. She will remove her name from the petition – in fact, she said she would call today and sort it out. Even though, she stressed, Polanski has had some truly terrible experiences in his lifetime, experiences that we couldn't even imagine and which should not be taken out of the equation, she agreed that she could not put her name to a petition asking for his release....

She left me with this, to pass on to everyone who has signed the petition/raised awareness of this issue: “Know that I will remove my name because of you, and all of the good work that you have been doing. I have read your petition. I have heard you. And I will listen.”

Never underestimate the power of one person to effect change. We forget this sometimes, amid a crushing sea of injustices. But sometimes all it really takes is one voice to pierce the darkness. Thank you, Caitlin. And thank you, Emma, for listening.

UPDATE: Emma is officially OFF THE PETITION. Broken hearts really can be mended. Recommence loving every inch of her great big magnificent brain...and other bits.